2013.07.30 - History Repeats Itself
Summer's sun is setting on a day that is nearly devoid of unpleasantness, in terms of weather, that is. The world is exploding, and hell is breaking loose- and the only words that come from a man that seems to have a hand on the pulse of damned near everything that happens is, "Back later."? It's enough to drive aides to drink. Outside of New York City, nestled in the County of Westchester is a little nature preserve, complete with small, hidden lake and wooden covered bridge such like one seen only in paintings anymore. Tourists have gone home, those who know about the place have also gone home, leaving only the small furry woodland creatures and birds behind. Oh, and Director Nick Fury. He's walking into the small, turn of the century wooden bridge, his hands stuck deep in his pocket, a cigar burning between his lips. His manner and mien? Expectant. If there's one thing New York State has of note besides 'the City'... it's the nature preserves. It's half what keeps Logan sane in (and around) Westchester, not to mention breaking up the time he's forced into the real 'civilization' beyond. The bend of Nick's bridge disappears around thick evergreens all but surrounded by the lake and its lily pads, little to disturb his anticipatory reverie aside from the sloshing of water, the buzzing of insects, the call of birds and other woodland creatures from the edges of the lake. At least, until a steady, if unhurried tromping of heavy boots, and heavier man, sounds on the approach. It's an entirely conscious telegraph, Fury knows the operative in question well enough to be certain of that-- deceptively stealthy, the burly runt. One hand slides and thumps absently at the wooden rail as he walks, a mini cigar puffed, held in the thick fingers of the other. His initial greeting is just a nod, and a long haul, as he comes up beside Fury and leans elbows onto the bridge, peering out over the water as the wood creaks in protest. Fish dart beneath the surface, eating the small insects as they find them, as do the turtles. Those little guys hold their heads up, and in the next second, only the ripple of the water marks their passage. Fury knows the sounds of boots on a wooden bridge. Man would have to be damned good to sneak up on him out here; it's got good visibility, and good accoustics. Over water. As a result, the Director offers something of a nod over the water, before he, himself, leans. "Nice place out here. Quiet, but for the wildlife. Can't get them to shut up." Now, Fury looks beside him, towards the man he's known for years. Through the decades, on and off. "You know the drill by now." "Yup." It's not the most memorable of catchphrases, but he probably uses that single syllable more than any of the others. There's another pause for his smoke, as pensive, introspective eyes scan out over the quietly bustling water. He blows the cloud out and upwards, watching the tendrils creep skyward until a breeze dissipates them entirely, and then the Canucklehead continues, "Destruction at ground zero is all but complete. Nothing but crumbling rock and dust. Mystique tells me the mountain they demolished was a military target; no civilian casualties. Wish I could confirm that, or deny it." There's a shrug of one shoulder, before a small metal container is passed over to Fury, "About all that's left." The capsule contains dust of the decimated mountain and citadel within. "No conventional explosives. No nuclear devices. Wasn't burned out or incinerated." At least he can tell Fury some of what -didn't- happen. "Would be nice if we could count that as good news." But even without further discussion and elaboration? Wolverine expects Fury to see it as ominous, at best. He just doesn't immediately contaminate the pool with his own concerns. "We had pictures of the place before it went up." This, at least, Fury is willing to show. Digging into a pocket, he's got a little flashdrive. On it, satellite pictures of Genosha before Magneto had put his mark on the place. In some cases, hi-res, as if SHIELD was keeping an eye. He passes it over very much like a hostage swap; one for one. Nick takes the box first before he finally takes the cigar from his mouth, looks at it as if it somehow betrayed him and didn't stay lit, and lays it on the wooden rail. The dirt will be checked for DNA. "We can't get a good look anywhere now." It's the first time Fury is saying that out loud. Note operative term: GOOD look. "Eyes on the ground are better than any picture. They say that's worth a thousand words, but boots? Worth a hell of a lot more." "If it was really Humanity First, I'd be more than happy to piss on the ground. Now, of course, because of Mohammad moving that mountain, all the little ants are scurrying everywhere else. Moving into non-friendly territories in Africa." A breath is chuffed, "Easier to deal with them when they're all in one spot." There comes a meaningful look towards Wolverine. That goes for the unfriendly mutants on the island, too. Wolverine just nods, once. If he makes a distinction between human and mutant problems... it doesn't register. "Got an invite the join the cause." He does note, "Not sure anyone would really buy it, though." Especially after the way he left. "Way I see it, the problem isn't that Magneto killed a bunch of militant bigots." That part, Wolverine would have done himself. "The problem is that it's right there in his backyard: almost seems like overkill, with the resources at his disposal, eh? Either he's testing some kind of WMD or flexing his powers... real thoroughly, to make a point." It's not really clear which of those options sits -less- well with Logan, go figure. He glances from Fury to the lake, furrowing dark brows to complete a decidedly full face frown. "Especially since he sees human beings as the inevitable problem to be supplanted. A hateful race of destructive lessers." He draws a long drag from his cigar, and loses the last bit of smoke in a chuckle, as his frown shifts to a wolfish half a smirk, "Don't think he appreciated the irony in that. Pity, the man's old enough to know better." Sadly, it seldom seems to work out that way. There's an undertone of snark in the last crack that isn't hard to place, given the company. "He's big on talkin' up self defense and protection for mutants, but if I'm putting money down, it's going to be on more craters, and more collateral damage, just as soon as he thinks he can handle takin' that bite." The Wolverine just shakes his head, and spits. "You're right. I couldn't care less about them," Fury responds, and his eye turns back out to the water. "But you're right. He's flexing his muscles, giving the world a show. The UN? Half of them are scared shitless, and the other half are trying to work out how to get into the man's good graces." Funny how history repeats itself, isn't it? The Director shakes his head, and he exhales slowly. "Right now, from where I'm sitting, I'm not seeing much in the way of responses. Other than my group," he says flatly. "I'm hoping it's not a case of 'they came for them first'.." A dry chuckle actually sounds from the man, and reaching for the cigar, drops a hand into his pocket ot pull out matches in an attempt to relight the offending bundle of tobacco. "I talked with him the other day. If we can't take him down, we need to contain him. Because he's going to see us not doing something as weakness." The flame strikes, and he tucks in to light. After a couple rapid puffs, Nick waves the match before throwing the spent wooden stick into the water. "UN sanctions can't do shit. Observers? Inspectors? He wanted to be a member, but isn't willing to play nice." Nodding slowly, the Director smiles tightly again, pointing towards the compact mutant with the hand that wields the cigar. "You're right. He will be. Not a matter of 'if', but 'when'." "Funny how history repeats itself, ain't it?" Logan muses in echo, of sorts. "Worst tyrants are the ones with absolute certainty in their damn righteousness." Teeth grit a moment in between puffs, and the whole affair is punctuated with a decidedly tired sounding sight. "Inside arms length, I might be able to take a swipe at him in time." It's somewhat unusual uncertainty for the runty mutant, and speaks to the sheer audacity and danger of the thought, much less suggestion. "Doubt it would go over real well, though." Assuming he got claw on man, in the first place. "I wanted to hear him out, see what they were thinkin'... almost wish I'd just dropped in hunting throats, instead." It almost pains him to say it, but as mentioned... Logan expects the casualty count to rise. After all, "Far as he's concerned, we're all an evolved master race already at war. So yea. It's a safe flamin' bet." For all that's worth. "There's rumbling at the school to send a team in, try and stop him early. Not sure which way that'd go, but I'm sure he's expectin' it." Still, it's a tangible trump card in hand. "Master race.. and those inferior aren't worthy enough to live. Others are swayed to the cause, some are too afraid to say 'no'. And others," here, Nick nods towards the Canadian, his expression pensive, "willing to fight in the recognition that it's not right." "Inside arms length, Wolverine, would also put you right in the middle of ground zero. But you know what?" There comes a long pause before he exhales, and pulls his cigar in to get some smoke at the least before it goes out. As it is, it's an uneven burn. Dammit. "With all the potential spooks, I couldn't think of anyone better than you on the ground." He offers a half-smile, and dips his head before he looks out on the water, catching the flight of dragonflies. "It's war. I know it, you know it. We're just arming up now. He's looking for a few good men, and so is our side." Shifting his weight on his feet, Fury shrugs, "No offense, but sending a team in from the school'd be suicide. Not without serious backup. And while I know there is something there? You all will need more. And in order to provide it," Fury straightens now, and his cigar is clenched in teeth as he turns to fully take in his .. secret weapon. "I'd like a chat with them." "Don't know if he's gone quite that unhinged. Man still values life, but it's a tradeoff that's going to get nastier and nastier. War never changes." Far back as the killing power of bone and rock, and such. "And yea, even point blank, it still assumes I can move faster than he can summon up those powers." Which is a coinflip, at worst, in Wolverine's estimation... but those aren't /great/ odds next to a person who could then flay him alive with a flick of his wrist, and the rest of his cohorts. "Can't say I won't be keepin' an eye out for the option, though." At least, if things go southwards as he anticipates. "First thing I'd want to know, before sending anybody in, is what the contingency is for fighting 'em off. Man like that doesn't act without forethought. He's ready to be countered, may even be relying on it." Beat. "Question then becomes who's got their finger closer to the pulse." Dueling preparations, a potential pileup of gambits; of the non-Cajun variety. "Pooling resources is smarter. I'll see what I can do." "We're all looking for that one thing that'll tell us what the hell is going on." Fury sounds almost frustrated with the knowledge that he simply doesn't have the intel he wants in order to make that determination. "There's crazy, then there's stupid crazy. The stupid crazy ones we're more than happy to take out because they've become a liability all around. Our friend hasn't done that yet. We know who he is." So the key may be to de-escalate it without becoming, "I refuse to be a Chamberlain." Taking a deep breath, Fury gives up on the cigar totally and grinds it enough to completely put it out and put an even level on it. He'll cut it later. "Which is why I need boots on the ground. Eyes in the sky aren't helping me." Fury sets the cigar into a pocket, and drops his hands into pants pockets. "Pooling resources is the smart way to go. I've got access to tech you'd only dream of. Scientists that put Einstein to shame. Alone against this threat? We don't have half of what we need." "Of all the things you can say about Magneto... stupid ain't among them." Wolverine agrees, quite readily. "Not even like he's wrong, to a point. World doesn't lack soulless men who believe in nothing, and most of 'em crave power like ants and sugar." The feral runt shakes his head slowly, perhaps a touch sadly. "Won't get any argument from me saying there's violent bastards everywhere, preying on the innocent and fueled by nothing but ignorance and hate. Won't get any argument from me sayin' a lot of those fucks are the ones in charge. Loses me when he starts in on /their/ people being the threat to /our/ people, though. Far as I can see, there are aliens and /robots/ a lot more... human.. than that shit." Which is irony in the extreme, in the Canuck's book. "It's just tragic." Is what he's trying to say. "Always has been." There's a wry sort of knowing grin at Fury's sales pitch, and Logan stops himself from appending the 'Yeah, us too.' and just notes, "I'll pass along the message, they'd be idiots to ignore you." Not that that's a promise in this world, as established by the rest of Logan's preceding words! "See if I can stomach a return trip, too. Like you said, boots on the ground, and I'm the best there is at what I do." Fury's got his one good eye on the Candian, his hands still deep in his pants pockets. "I believe in cooperation. Particularly when each of the players are smart." Everyone has their own agenda, their own reasons for doing things. He has his reasons for doing things, just as he's sure the X-mutants have their own. He's not worried, however. In this case? The Director doesn't want to see either mutants or regular humans die. Nor does he want to see a war. But neither does he necessarily want to see Magneto deposed. He wants the self-styled Imperator to see reason, and that the saber rattling has to cease. "But it's a story that's repeated through history. And I mean to nip this in the bud before something drastic happens." To either side. A soft, barked laugh sounds, and the Director takes the first steps towards shore, his tones still conversational. "You're the best at what you do, Wolverine. That's why I want you to go back in. We understand each other, you and I. People will die, on both sides. That's a given. It's to prevent more people from dying. And you won't be alone." Category:Log